German fiction -- Translations into English; Holy Roman Empire -- History -- Charles V, 1519-1556 -- Fiction
The regent knew that on this memorable day he would not be seen even by
her. The success of the surprise afforded a guarantee that music would
supply her place to him on the morrow also, and ere she left him she
requested a short leave of absence to enjoy the hunting for which she
longed, and permission to take his major-domo Quijada with her.
An almost unintelligible murmur from the sufferer told her that he had
granted the petition. It was done reluctantly, but the Queen departed
at dawn with Don Luis and a small train of attendants, while the Emperor
retired into the black-draped chamber.
The gout would really have prohibited him from kneeling before the
altar, whence the agonized face of the crucified Redeemer, carved in
ivory by a great Florentine master, gazed at him, but he took this
torture upon himself.
Even in the period of health and happiness when, at the age of
twenty-three, besides the great boon of health, besides fame, power,
and woman’s love, he had enjoyed in rich abundance all the gifts which
Heaven bestows on mortals, his devout nature had led him to retreat into
a gloomy, solitary apartment.
The feeling that constantly drew him thither again was akin to the
dread which the ancients had of the envy of the gods, and, moreover, the
admonition of his pious teacher who afterward became Pope Adrian, that
the less man spares himself the more confidently he can rely upon the
forbearance of God.
And, in truth, this mighty sovereign, racked by almost unendurable pain,
dealt cruelly enough with himself when he compelled his aching knee to
bend until consciousness threatened to fail under the excess of agony.
Nowhere did he find more complete calmness than here, in no spot could
he pray more fervently, and the boon which he most ardently besought
from Heaven was that it would spare him the fate of his insane mother,
hold aloof the fiend which in many a gloomy hour he saw stretching a
hand toward him.
Here, too, he sought to penetrate the nature of death. In this room,
clothed with the sable hue of mourning, he felt that alreadv, while on
earth, he had fallen into its all-levelling power. Here his mind, like
that of a dying man’s, grasped for brief intervals what life had
offered and what awaited him beyond the confines of this short earthly
existence, in eternity.
While thus occupied, the sovereign, accustomed to speculation,
encountered many a dangerous doubt, but he only needed to gaze at the
crucified Saviour to find the way again to the promises of his Church.
The last years had deprived him of so large a portion of the most
valuable possessions and the best ornaments of his life, and inflicted,
both in wardly and outwardly, such keen suffering, that it was easy for
him to perceive what a gain death would bring.
What it could take from him was easily lost; the relief it promised
to afford no power, science, or art here on earth could procure for
him--release from cruel suffering and oppressive cares.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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